


Cherry Tree

by orphan_account



Series: Wincest Songs~ [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom!Sam, Choking, Demon!Dean, Hurt Sam Winchester, Insanity, Light BDSM, M/M, Suicide, Supernatural - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform, demon!Sam, ohohoh, omg, top!dean, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yea-” Dean grabbed Sam’s throat again, disregarding Sam’s response and loving the way how Sam’s beautiful face contorted in pain--how Dean was the only thing between Sam’s death. How in control he was of him.<br/>{This is my first hardcore smutty fic, so enjoy! There are trigger warnings, also this fic was inspired from the Song "Cherry Tree" by The National. Enjoy~}</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Tree

Sam remembers the weight of his brother. He was too heavy, until he built enough muscles that he could support that weight, and he did. Even though those days where he could barely lift his big brother up were hidden in the past, Sam still remembered those days with a fondness. He remembers trying to lift Dean up, his small arms trying to pick up his seventeen year old brother on a dare and failing miserably. He remembers trying again a couple of years after that, except he surprised Dean from behind. He remembers the muscles tensing in his brother, the laugh when he realized it was just Sam and how Dean turned around and picked Sam up himself, a grin gracing his features and the glint of mischief behind those green eyes as he sung Metallica and paraded around the room like an idiot. He remembers the training, Dean cross legged and perched on Sam’s back as he struggled to heave out a pushup, his Dad in the corner commenting on how Dean could do a push-up with himself on his back at Sam’s age, and Sam making snarky remarks about how fat Dean is. He remembers the first Day he successfully pulled and injured Dean into his arms and ran like the wind with a Djinn on his tail, he was sixteen and the strength came mostly from adrenaline and weight-lifting during gym class. Dean’s weight was warm and supportive after Sam learned how to carry it.

But today was different.

Sam walked down the hall of the bunker, a right here and a left here, down a few stairs and he was at his destination. Dean’s bedroom. His conscience forgot for a moment why he was here, did Dean need something? Dean was always hungry, perhaps this is why he’s here. His mind only registered the weight in his arms after five minutes of staring blankly at Dean’s door. He looked down at his arms. Dean’s eyes were still open, dull green and slightly sunken in ovals peered back up at Sam. That’s right, Dean’s dead. Dean’s weight was empty. There was no glint in his eyes, no Metallica and no warmth. Only death. If somebody looked in Sam’s eyes right now, his eyes would look exactly like Dean’s.

Dead and empty.

He opened the door, and numbly walked over to Dean’s bed. He placed Dean down on the bed and skirted to the far side of said bed. He laid down beside his brother and looked at the ceiling for a good ten minutes. So many memories flood through his mind, playing like a heart-wrenching 80’s montage on the ceiling.

Desperation hit him like a title wave.

Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. D. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. D. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. D. Dean. Where’s Dean? What’s he’s doing? Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. I want him. I want him back. Why is he not here? Why am I not with him? Dean. Dean.

Sam succumbed to an inevitable insanity. His head snapped towards the corps laying beside him. Sam’s face screwed up and he wailed, he wailed and tried to rip his hair out.

“Dean, why aren’t you here?” Sam turned to his brother’s corpse and rested his hand on Dean’s cheek. “WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?” The coldness of Dean’s skin did not help Sam, but throw him over the edge. “WHY?!” Sam let a scream that would wake the dead, but Dean remained still, his head tilted towards Sam and nonreactive to Sam’s screeches, wails and sobs. Sam begun scratching at his face, hating the person he inflicted pain on. Himself. Sam writhed in the burn that came from this action, like he was on fire. He loved it. Sam gave a giggle to himself as his eyes brightened to an idea.

“If Dean can’t come back, I’ll follow him.” Sam sprung from the bed and flew to the bathroom, in the mirror he saw how his face was bloody and there were four long gnashes of torn skin,  and parts of his hair were missing from him pulling at it but he didn’t care. He will see Dean again. He walked to the mirror and punched it, hard. He heard crunches of his knuckles, the pain barely registering in his mind so he punched the mirror again for good measure. A satisfactory shot of pain burned through his arm and he smiled. There we go. He looked in the drawer of the bathroom and found what he was looking for. A knife. He walked--more like skipped, he was regressing with grief--as he turned on his side to face his brother. He placed a kiss on Dean’s cheek and hovered the knife over his abdomen.

“See you soon.” He smiled insanely and warm streams slid down his face as he plunged the silver into his stomach, the metal tearing apart his insides. Sam didn’t remember much after that.

OOO

Dean opened his eyes. He knew what he was and chuckled at the irony of it. Crowley was standing in the corner, the blade in hand. Dean sensed another demon in the proximity.

“Dean.” The sweet voice flooded his senses and his head snapped to the source.

Sam. His face seemed to be in the process of healing, his hair growing back slowly and his pure black eyes flashed at him, Sam’s open toothed smile was graced with blood at the corner of his little brother’s lips.

“Sam.” Dean let out a cold chuckle and looked at Sam’s stomach. “You committed suicide?” Dean smiled coolly as Sam nodded.

“For you.” Dean noted how different Sam was, his memories fuzzy but he could remember a certain independence within Sam. This Sam was dependent and corrupt, and Dean found that hot. Dean growled at the thought and flicked his wrist at Crowley, who was about to speak and ruin the moment. Crowley was flung out of the room, an appeasing crash and distant snapping of bones gracing his ears as he slammed the door behind the imposer. He turned to look back at Sam when he was sure the bastard backed off and left them alone.

“For me?” Dean smiled and reached up to hold Sam’s cheek. “Why for me?”

“Because I want you.” Sam leaned into the hand, then Dean slammed Sam’s head against the wall with a cackle. Sam went limp for a minute, and once he regained his composure he looked sickly loving at Dean. His head was healing, the blood still flowed down his face.

“You want me? Must of changed your mind then, Sammy.” Dean got up from the bed and went around to Sam’s side of said bed. Sam looked forward, away from Dean and his breath hitched when Dean snaked a hand around his neck from his position. Dean was behind Sam on the bed, Dean’s hand wrapped around the highest part of Sam’s neck and harshly tilted it to the side then bit down. “You’re mine now, no running off or disagreeing to me. Got it?”

Sam’s voice was lost as he nodded frantically, anticipation was making his muscles quiver and shake his bones. He’s wanted this for a long time. Dean chuckled cruelly and  shoved Sam firmly further onto the bed, Sam’s ass in the air and his arms supported his weight. Dean didn’t like that. “No.” Dean reached over Sam’s hips and pulled his arms back and harshly tied them together with a torn piece of blanket, Sam gasped as his face crashed into the mattress. Dean leaned back to regard his work, and laughed at the view. “Lookin’ good Sammy.” Dean grabbed Sam’s hips harshly and gave them a squeeze, Sam mewled. “Not going anywhere now, princess.” He smacked Sam’s ass and leaned into the skin under Sam’s ear. “You’re mine.” He growled out, sounding more animistic that moral as Sam moaned. Dean’s dick was getting harder with the minute and Sam could feel in in the crack of his ass. “Mine.” Dean repeated, and bit Sam again on the sensitive flesh behind his ear. Dean kneeled up straight behind his brother, grinding down on his displayed ass. Dean realized quickly there were clothing in between himself and Sammy and he hissed at the insulting clothing. Dean got up from the bed and bent down to eye level with Sam’s butt. Sam’s hips were wiggling slightly, and Sam was trying to get up to see what Dean was doing. “Down.” Dean rumbled and smacked Sam’s ass--hard--leaving Sam to yelp in pain and shrink back down to the mattress. Back to business.

Dean groped the left butt cheek, then with his other hand he grabbed the right and kneaded the flesh in a circular motion until he was satisfied. Dean was to entranced with his work to pay attention to Sam’s moans. He sighed with content as he stopped and walked his fingers up the clefs of Sam’s ass. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.” Sam spoke softly, and Dean grunted in agreement. He reached the top of Sam’s jeans and hooked his fingers through the hoops and pulled down ruthlessly. Sam squeaked in surprise, as Dean lifted his waist up like it weighed nothing to pull his pants off. Dean grunted at the sight of his brother’s ass. Sam wasn’t himself, and he knew that. He wasn’t all submissive before the transformation, but what he knew now was the sheer power his brother had. It was instinct to bow down to such a powerful demon, he had no choice. Sam tried to see clearly what Dean was doing.

“I belong to you, Dean.” Sam repeated, his hands trying to untie themselves.

“Then stop fucking moving!” Dean stood up and abruptly grabbed Sam’s neck then pulled Sam up, tightening his grip on his brother’s airway. “You do shit-all until I tell you to do something, got it? I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want to you so don’t you dare try and undo those ties.” Dean pulled Sam close to him, wedging Sam’s head on his shoulder as he watched Sam struggle to breathe. He looked at the mirror at the other side of the bed and made it face them, now he could see everything of his brother’s that wasn’t covered in plaid. Sam’s layers were torn off by Dean’s telekinesis, Sam’s toned stomach on display in the mirror. “Good boy, good little princess.” Sam’s eyes were distant, and his breaths were shallow as he leaned onto Dean, he was losing consciousness. Dean let go of his throat and nudged Sam forward, he sagged and crashed into the bed, gasping quietly for air. Dean chuckled at himself. “You’re like a rag doll.” Dean pulled Sam back up by the hair, and Sam’s body went limp again as Dean lifted his ass off the bed and let go again, Sam fell limply against the bed.  Dean stood up and tore off his clothes before sitting in front of the mirror. He flicked his finger at the curled up Sam on the bed. Sam was tossed at him, and landed limply on his lap facing the mirror.

“Dean…” Sam moaned out, looking at his own lewd face in the mirror. “Please.” Dean shrieked with laughter and tore off Sam’s boxers.

“You’re so pathetic, Sam. You need me, don’t you.” Dean smirked in the mirror at Sam, who nodded and tried to roll his hips on Dean’s exposed cock. “You need me.”

“Yea-” Dean grabbed Sam’s throat again, disregarding Sam’s response and loving the way how Sam’s beautiful face contorted in pain--how Dean was the only thing between Sam’s death. How in control he was of him.

“You’re so beautiful, Sammy” Dean looked how red Sam’s face in now and his dick hardened at the thought of rubbing it on that face-- on those lips. Dean could do that later, though. Dean held Sam’s neck with his right hand and pulled it upwards, Sam’s hips following the movement as Dean positioned himself at Sam’s already wet entrance. Sam was into this. Dean shoved into Sam’s heat, Sam’s choking sounds turning into screeches of pain and pleasure as Dean thrust up into the tanned boy-king brutally, Sam’s hard cock bounced harshly as Sam came and cum sprayed the mirror in jolts. Dean eased the pressure of Sam’s throat, he didn’t want to break Sam’s neck, pulled Sam’s dazed face towards Dean’s mouth and crashed lips. Sam had no energy to kiss back, but Dean didn’t care as he darted his tongue into that soft mouth, kissed Sam and harshly and bit and nipped the younger male’s lips. When they parted Dean started to thrust up harsher than before, Sam limply bouncing on Dean’s cock as Sam’s head violently snapped up and down with each thrust. Sam’s eyes were closed and his mouth was swollen and slack, the green eyed demon didn’t know--or cared--if the boy lost consciousness or not. Dean put a hand on Sam’s stomach, manipulating Sam’s hips to roll into meeting his thrusts.

Sam regained most of his consciousness as he let out high pitched and broken moans and cries. Dean was close, and from the looks of it Sam was close too. He moved the hand from Sam’s stomach to his leg and turned Sam around to face him, Sam sagged onto Dean’s shoulder as Dean pounded into him faster. Dean held Sam’s hips and slammed them down harshly, Sam’s face riding up and down Dean’s shoulder limply. Sam was whining now, moaning small-y ‘Dean’ or ‘harder’. Dean’s hands slid down to Sam’s ass and groped it as he stood up, pounded into Sam standing up then slammed Sam onto a wall. Sam was very dazed, but knew the basics of what was going on as Dean put each of his legs on each of Dean’s shoulders. Dean bit Sam’s neck and pounded into him, Sam’s torso bouncing against the wall mercilessly with each pound. “‘M close, bitch.” Dean grunted out against tanned skin and Sam barely registered what he said as Dean choked him again, looking straight into his eyes as he did so. Sam came instantly, a loud and broken moan coming from his mouth. Dean came as soon as Sam clamped down on him, he rode out his orgasm with strong and shallow thrusts.

“Good little slut.” Dean rested his head on Sam's shoulder as he pulled out and pulled Sam along to bed. Dean laid Sam down and situated himself to be the big spoon, snaking his arm around Sam's waist. The weight warmed Sam's demonic heart.


End file.
